Warcraft Inner Turmoil

**A/N**

**This is just a random little oneshot that got stuck in my head a few days ago... Enjoy! (Notice how I don't say please? I am literally demanding you to enjoy this.)**

**Disclaimer: Consider this disclaimed! I. Don't. Own.**

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The tavern wasn't what she would call peaceful, quiet or calm, but Talaille Bittermeadow didn't care at the moment. Her mind was full of uncontrollable thoughts and _memories_, buzzing around like bees in her head, the particularly painful ones stabbed her brain with their stingers until the frantic insect swelled and burst, leaving the emotions she wasn't aloud to feel under the Lich King's influence to bubble inside of her until she felt like she would _burst_.

She had regained control of her actions almost a year ago, but she could still hear _his_ voice in her head, dripping with poison and _death_.

After rubbing her temples slowly, she took a swig from the mug the barkeep had given her, she didn't know what it was but it was strong. _Good, _she thought, _maybe I'll forget._

Forget.

Talaille done a lot of that, recently, hadn't she? The night elf… Rather, the death knight, as she was now, chuckled bitterly.

She'd _forgotten_ her family. _Forgotten_ (and _killed!_) the woman who'd practically raised her. _Forgotten _her friends.

Her friends... Nadia and... and Medisiel. A draenei and a night elf, if she recalled. Twelve months of being out of the Lich Kings grasp, of being _alive_, and she hadn't even contacted them. She'd just left them to mourn her loss, and she was lost. Still _is _lost.

Groaning softly, she brought the mug back up to her lips. Alcohol wasn't the same now that she was undead, it just didn't have the same effect as it did when she was alive. Talaille could still get drunk, (and she had, numerous times.) but it did nothing to quell the constant need to bring pain to almost any living thing. It was like a fire, _burning _her up from the inside, only calming when her blade sliced through the flesh of it's latest victim.

_Finish it… Leave no survivors._

She gasped lightly and clenched her fists around her drink, her muscles tensed in anticipation and her vision turned red and blurry. Talaille shook her head, fiercely willing the uncontrollable urge away, it was something she was getting better at... Ignoring the bloodlust that practically coated her existence... But she still struggled on the best of days.

As her heartbeat slowed, her eyes flickered to the rising sun, barley visible through the streaks on the tavern window, then back down to the wooden table. It had been three days since she'd satiated her need to kill, she'd never gone this long before and the death knight feared it would kill her and anyone close by. Talaille glanced around the bar. There weren't many occupants this time of day and this place wasn't known for it's popularity, but she noticed a few dwarfs in a booth laughing, some tauren quietly muttering to themselves in the corner and the bartender, wiping a dirty glass with an even dirtier rag.

This wasn't a surprise to her, she'd seen the same customers everyday since she'd gotten to the Outland. Day drinking... She did it frequently, especially since the Lich King was dead.

The Lich King was _dead_.

After being broken from his hold on her and the other death knights, after realizing she was a _pawn _in his sick game against Tirion Fordring, Talaille had devoted her life to taking Arthas down. Eventually, she had done just that. Well, Tirion had struck the killing blow, but she and the Knights of the Ebon Blade had helped and that was good enough for her.

_I'm for truth no matter who tells it. I'm for justice no matter who it's for or against._

She stared into the brown liquid in her mug defiantly as she imagined the piercing blue eyes (not unlike her own) staring back at her.

A loud cheering shook her from her thoughts and she glanced up sharply. There was a heavily armed worgen (in his human form, but she could smell wet dog from the other side of the room) standing on a crate in front of the bar, he was holding something... Talaille narrowed her eyes, a wanted poster? There was an orc standing below him and the death knight guessed they entered the tavern together.

"The the Lich King may be gone, but we can't let our guard down. Now we must focus on the other enemies that threaten the safety of Azeroth and the Outland." The man's steely gaze swept over the bar. "Tonight, brothers, we will put an end to the Cenarion Refuge's fears. Tonight we will do all of Zangarmarsh a favor and slay the blasted Bog Lurker!" He shouted with undisguised vigor and confidence.

Before she could wonder why he was asking for heroes in a place like this, the tavern's occupants all shouted and cheered. Talaille noticed that despite all the excitement, only a few new adventurers stood fro battle and they all looked as capable as her grandmother.

The orc spoke next, his voice was gravelly but had a childlike excitement to it, Talaille angled her head and peered at him through her hood. "If we hurry, we'll make it to Zangarmarsh by night. Who's with us?"

She smirked and rolled her eyes, turning back to her drink. These guys were all brawn, they'd need intelligence and quick wits on there side for a fight like this. Besides, she hadn't even heard of the Bog Lurker, and she assumed no one else in this bar had before tonight either.

Suddenly someone sat in the seat opposite of her and she looked up in surprise, her hood fell back a bit and the light pouring in from the windows revealed the lower half of her face and therefore, her gaping mouth. It was a dwarf. Apparently not one of the regulars, as she hadn't ever seen him before. Talaille glared at him, hoping it would drive him away like it had so many others. But alas...

"You should go with 'em. Be good fer you."

Her eyes widened slightly before she regained her composure, "Do I _know _you?"

"Nah." The dwarf smirked slightly, "You just look like ye could use some excitement."

"Thanks for the concern," Heavy sarcasm. "But I'm fine. I've had enough excitement for this year."

"Ay... The Lich King... Did you have a part in that, lass?"

"Not really, no." Talaille lied easily, but the dwarf clearly didn't believe her.

"Hmm. Anyway, I jus' thought you'd want the chance te prove yerself, bein' a death knight an' all." He looked away awkwardly.

Death knights were still a relatively new, and sometimes scary, concept for the residents of Azeroth. It was hard for them to accept. Former slaves to the Lich King walking among them, _helping _them, some chose not to believe it and would turn death knights away when they offered their assistance.

She was constantly trying to make up for her bloody past... According to Yazmina, she was a former hero of the Alliance! Though she still couldn't remember anything from before rebirth...

Talaille looked towards the newly formed attack party, contemplating for a moment, then she stood up and marched towards the bar.

"I've always wanted to know what a Bog Lord looked like. When do we leave?" She pulled her hood down and her bright pink hair cascaded over her shoulders.

The worgen scoffed, "This no mere Bog Lord, ma'am. This is _the _Bog Lurker, it's dangerous... No one dares to go near it's lair, and the ones that have never make it back. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Whether you'll admit it or not, you boys need me." Talaille's eyes glinted mischievously. "I could teach you a few things."

"I think the four of us can handle it." He laughed, gesturing to the group behind him.

She rolled her eyes, "Two tauren, a worgen and an orc? You guys are like the start of a bad joke."

"What's your name?" A female tauren spoke, ignoring the men behind her.

"Talaille Bittermeadow."

The leader, seemingly decided out of nowhere that she would be helpful, stepped towards her and held out his hand, "Good to have you aboard, Lady Bittermeadow."

Talaille ignored his outstretched hand and reached into the wallet on her belt before dropping some silver onto the bartop then breezing out of the bar, "Likewise," She called over her shoulder. "But call me _lady _again you'll wish you hadn't."

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She felt guilty every time she looked at her deathcharger. She couldn't help it, it was her fault it was a deathcharger instead of just a horse in the first place. The death knight ran her hand along its horn, muttering an apology under her breath as she mounted.

In the few minutes it took for the attack party to set up their cart, Talaille had all there names memorized. Jack Falennor, now in his worgen form, was a paladin. Nakila and Tanuk Azurehoof were brother and sister tauren, judging from the blunderbuss on Nakila's back she was a hunter, and Tanuk was a shaman. Camek was an orc warrior, and seemed to be good friends with Jack despite the obvious differences.

_Kill them all._

Talaille clenched the reins as her vision blurred and she started to see red. She held her breath and tensed her muscles. _Don't move, don't make a sound, _she scolded herself, _don't even __breathe!_

The others were in front of her and thankfully didn't notice her inner turmoil right away. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to keep control of her mind and actions, Talaille knew she had to satisfy this craving, _now_.

"Talaille?"

And it was gone.

Her head snapped up reflexively, "Yes?"

Tanuk studied her quietly for a moment, "We're heading out now."

"Oh. Well then, lets go." She nodded and plastered a small smile on her face.

Jack was riding a sleek white steed with Camek beside him on a grey worg, they were pulling a cart that carried Nakila, Tanuk and some supplies, Talaille was following behind them quietly.

So she may not have gotten her revenge on the Lich King, but Arthas was dead... And that was good enough for her.

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**A/N**

**Again, this was completely random and I couldn't stop thinking about it until I splatter the contents of my mind onto fanfiction for you all to see. Sorry.**

I don't know if there is a bar like I described anywhere in the Outland... But, oh well.


End file.

Warcraft, Hurt-Comfort